


We Must Pay For Our Sins

by NatsukiLeeRkoLover



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Almost blowjob, Episode Tag, Implied Ambrolleigns, Killing, Roman is out due to injury, Set after Raw 2/18, Swearing, Thriller, Violence, dark themes, kind of?, not tagging all warning because it'll give things away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:45:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatsukiLeeRkoLover/pseuds/NatsukiLeeRkoLover
Summary: Dean almost told the world. He had told Seth that they were paying for their sins. Dean almost told the WWE universe what they had done those years ago. He didn't mean it. He couldn't help it.Because he was so angry. He was so angry and lost.Where was he?





	We Must Pay For Our Sins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jinouchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinouchi/gifts).



> After Dean had said that the Shield were paying for their sins, it became an on going joke with me and Jin about what exactly those sins were, since Dean didn't go into detail.
> 
> And so I decided to take that theory and put it as dark as I could manage.
> 
> Thanks to my beta, that bitch.
> 
> It took me 5 hours to write this out, but a week to edit. 
> 
> Also, forgive the format.
> 
> Please comment, kudos, enjoy!

He was walking backstage. From a match. That, he knew. The refs had helped him to that point, out of the ring after his match with...  
  


With…. Someone.  
  


Drew McIntyre, maybe?  
  


Dean bit his lip and looked around. He wasn't positive.   
  


In the corner of the guerilla, he saw Seth, and some ease settled in him. Thank God. Someone he could trust. 

So he reached beside Seth, massaging his aching neck and waiting for Seth to finish his interview. But then Seth turned to him, eyes hard and angry. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Dean bit back, sneering. “Where were you out there?”

That… that didn't feel right. Like, Dean wasn't saying the right thing. Like, he shouldn't be there next to Seth. Something was wrong.

Where was Roman?

“Have you completely, completely lost your mind?”

Dean looked up at Seth and a sudden flash of memories hit him. It sucked him into a space he had locked away in the recesses of his mind years ago. Years ago, to a night in 2013. To a time when Seth had uttered a very similar sentence. 

**They were in a dark little stairwell in the back of the arena, hiding out, as was normal for them. Tonight, though, they were not in complete agreement as they usually were. In fact, they were arguing. Well, Dean and Seth were arguing. They couldn't come to agreement about when to go out and attack Cena.**

**“Are you out of your fucking mind Ambrose?”**

**“Are you?” Dean spit back. He was pacing. He looked over at Roman, who was watching them from where he sat on the stairs, hands hanging between temptingly open legs. “What about you, Big Dog? What should we do?”**

The vague, yet extremely important, memory faded, and the realization of the last few months came back to Dean. The Shield were separated again. Dean had come back in August, and at first it was good. But then... he was angry. Always, angry. Then, Roman got injured bad and had to give up the title. And Dean lost his mind, and attacked Seth for weeks. Months.

Oh yeah. Dean had done that. Months ago. Why couldn't he remember it all?

He looked at Seth, wide doe eyes registering the anger and hatred. And… A little fear. 

But, that fear was always there in Seth. For years. Since… Well. Since that night.

Then, his memory flipped. It drove forward in time several hours to rain and thunder, like a horror movie that would haunt Dean forever. He was staring, wide eyed and jaw clenched at the faces of his teammates. Seth’s and Roman’s dirty faces, marbled skin streaked with silent tears and smudges of mud, were looking right back at him. Roman looked sick. It made Dean's teeth clench.

The memory took him out of himself. When he gained a little control, he propelled back into reality, realizing he was on live tv. He shook his head, muttering some anti-climatic noise of “eh?” with a shrug, and walked away from Seth and the interview girl.

Seth's eyes on the back of his neck made his hair stand on end. Dean moved quickly to the locker room, ignoring any and everyone. Especially his wife. He couldn't let her know about his mind being all jumbled up and blank. Not now, not when he couldn't find an excuse for it.

A long hot shower later, he was staring in the mirror at his tired reflection, clarity finally kicking in. The dual claymore kicks in the ring that night must have knocked a screw loose. 

Well, more than the already loose screws Dean had jangling around his mind. 

He was a little better now, though. Shaken up from the lost feeling he had after the match, certainly. But at least now he remembered that his hair was short and he had almost died from MRSA. 

He was definitely shaken still, though. His hands trembled. His head pounded. And  he missed his boys. But that was his own fault.

Just like that night. 

**Seth scowled at Dean, crossing his arms over the tactical vest. “See? Roman agrees with me.”**

**“He only agrees with you because he knows you'll never shut the fuck up about it if he doesn't. You whiney bitch.”**

**“Fuck you Ambrose.”**

**“You wish you were, sweetheart.”**

**Seth's face hardened. “No one would ever want to fuck you, you crazy mother fucker! Don't act like you're some gift to earth. You're a sociopathic piece of shit who won't listen to me.”**

**Dean smirked, his cleanly shaven face darkening. “Oh sweetheart, I do listen to you. I listen so well that I hear you late at night when you think me and Big Dog are sleeping.”**

**Seth was red-faced as his eyes flickered to Roman. He gulped and licked his lips nervously.**

**Roman, on the other hand, chuckled. “Yeah, Ambrose? What was he doing? Was he making plans for us?” There was something predatory in those words, though there shouldn't have been.**

**“Nope,” Dean said with a pop of his lips. “Well, kind of.”He turned to gave Seth his full attention, slowly backing the blonde-streaked man against the cement wall. “See, Seth gets off on giving us orders. He loves when we agree with him. That's why I usually do. Except he's just too wrong this time to let it go.”**

**A soft groan from behind Dean made his entire body heat up. Seth must have heard it too, because he looked over Dean's shoulder directly at Roman. Dean followed the line of sight and felt all the blood in his body rush down. A flush of energy spread through his bones.**

**Roman was staring back at them, eyebrows furrowed but pushed up as if he was waiting on them to continue. A large hand palmed his pants where a suddenly apparent outline lay against a thick thigh.**

**Dean turned back to Seth and grinned, almost sinister. He stepped closer. Then again. The last step brought him flush against Seth's hot body. Dean could feel Seth trembling against him, could feel the tent forming in those black cargo pants.**

**“Since you like it so much, tell me what you want Dean to do?” Roman rumbled behind them. “Order him around.”**

Dean stepped away from the sink and shuffled into the bathroom stall. His head dropped to his hands the second he was seated, fully clothed, on the toilet. 

He had buried this memory away. Why was it coming back this way? 

It wasn't like he ever forgot about it. He thought about it a lot. It would haunt his core until he left this world. 

But he never thought about it this much. He never revisited it with so much detail. He could feel the bile rise in him, burning his already raw throat as the memory took over again.

**Seth took a deep breath. “Don't make fun of me,” he muttered, to neither of them in particular. His flushed cheeks could almost have been arousal, if not for the embarrassment in his voice.**

**“Oh Rollins,” Dean licked his lips slowly. He nudged his knee between Seth's thighs, hiking it up slightly. The soft hitch of breath he got in reply made his smirk twist, even more lecherous than before. “I'm not making fun of you. I actually really hate taking orders from other people. But knowing how much being a bossy bottom bitch gets you off is really fucking hot. So go ahead. Order me around. I want to see you get off on it.”**

**Wide brown eyes and parted lips met those words, and Seth gulped thickly. Then his fists unclenched at his side, eyes flicking to Roman and then back at Dean. He looked indecisive, and maybe a little scared too. It made Dean's arousal jump. His tone was more level this time, though, and he rasped, “Kneel down and suck me off Ambrose.”**

**Dean snickered, but the feeling of Seth's dick pulsing against his thigh sent him to his knees in no time. His mouth ghosted over the tented crotch, the sounds of a zipper and soft grunts from behind him making Dean drool.**

**Who knew this was something he wanted? But here he was, about to suck off his teammate while the other watched nearby.  Dean could almost say he was in love right now. If he knew what love felt like, that is.**

Tears ran down his face and he choked for air. Dean's mind was spinning. 

Where was he? What time was it?

Oh right. The arena. Monday Night Raw. It was 2019. Not 2013. It was February, not May. And Dean wasn't in a dingy hallway.

He was in the bathroom, stifling his panicked crying.

Why was his memory like this? Why was he forgetting everything except that night?

Was this his punishment?

This was the punishment he was receiving for their sins. 

Roman's punishment was getting badly injured during the highest point of his career. 

Seth's punishment was guilt and fear.

Dean's punishment must have been that he was slowly losing himself to that dark night.

He wiped angrily at his face and punched the metal stall wall hard enough that it dented, breaking the skin of his hand open. Small drops of blood fell to mingle with the other stains on the gross tiled floor. 

He had to get air. His lungs begged for it. He shot out of the bathroom and walked as quickly as he could without alerting someone. Finally, he reached an exit and slipped outside, gasping for air. It wasn't cool, but it was better than being inside.

His phone buzzed at his side. Slowly, he reached for it, gulping in deep breaths. 

-What the fuck is your problem you crazy son of a bitch? You better get your shit together. Remember the pact- Seth

The pact. A promise whispered in the car that night. Dirt covering their exposed skin. Rainwater pattering on the windows as they drove away from their sins. The wipers swished back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Dean remembered the fear that crippled his heart every time a set of car lights came behind them for the following months. He remembered checking newspapers and news sites for years. And their pact hung in the air between them.

A pact that could not be broken. A pact that remained, even in separation. When Seth betrayed the Shield, Dean and Roman had cornered him in an empty hallway and held him there. They hadn't said a word. Just looked at each other. A silent acknowledgement that the pact would never be broken, because if one went down they all went down. Seth might have stabbed them in the back for gold and money, but he never broke the pact.

And when any of them went through something - good or bad, weddings or injuries or anger - they never revisited that night.

Somehow, Dean had found his way to the hotel, and was laying in the darkness, mind fuzzy. He remembered everything at the moment. Thank God. But he couldn't help biting his lip at the thought of waking up in the morning and his mind being in the wrong year again. 

He had been in 2017 when he got backstage. He was in 2013 in the locker room bathroom. What was next? Would he forget his wife? Would he forget his plans? 

Would he forget how hard he worked to bury the haunting thoughts of hollow eyes? 

Years ago, the Shield boys had sinned their greatest sin, and no one but them knew. It would stay their secret until either they were caught or they died. They had made a pact.

Dean shoved his face in the pillow. He thought his sins had been paid with almost dying after his shoulder surgery. Obviously, he was wrong. That had just been a taste. 

They had never revisited that night. That was, until Dean brought it up after Roman gave up the title, and he attacked Seth with the tag titles on the mat beside his pleading face.

“It's okay, Dean.” and “Why?” were what Seth said to him for weeks after he let his anger take him over. Poor Seth. It wasn't his fault. Seth had sought redemption for his sins. All of his sins. The pact and his betrayal. Seth had bettered himself, while Roman and Dean kept on the high path. 

Of course, Roman was an actual saint, Dean mused. Roman hadn't done anything wrong. It had been Dean's fault, really. 

That's why Dean had always felt the worst. Roman didn't deserve this torture attached to his God fearing soul. And Seth had worked hard to make up for their sins. Dean was the one who deserved all of this.

Dean deserved to be consumed by his anger. He deserved to be the bad guy. He deserved the act of casting away the people he loved. Because he loved Roman and Seth. Not that Dean ever acted on any of his impulses with them. 

Not since that night, at least.

He had never touched Seth like that since that night. 

Because the allure of lust and pleasure was forever tainted. 

**Dean ran his tongue over the black cloth, enjoying the tremor it caused in the man he knelt in front of.**

**“Let's go, Ambrose,” Seth panted. He tugged at Dean's gelled back hair. “Hurry up and suck me off.”**

**Dean scraped his teeth against the hard clothed length. Seth moaned.**

**Roman moaned.**

**And Dean's blue eyes sparkled.**

**“Say please, Rollins,” he teased. He lifted a hand to the zipper but didn't pull it down, waiting for Seth to sneer at him and mutter please.**

**Instead Roman's voice cut through Dean's lusty mind. “Rollins, just force him. Shove your dick in his mouth, see if he shuts up that way.”**

**His blue eyes fluttered closed. “Do it. I fucking dare you,” he pressed. He nuzzled his nose against Seth's thigh and grinned darkly at him. “I bet you won't. You're too much of a bitch to make me do anything, Rollins.”**

**Roman snorted, amused, behind him. But Dean knew that Roman’s hand was in his pants, moving languidly. Roman's gruff little moans were turning Dean on more than he already was feeling Seth's fingers pulling his hair. He was rock hard. Seth seemed to take Roman's direction and went to unzip himself.**

**That was, until Dean and Seth heard Roman shout and a loud bang.**

Dean sat up in bed, sweating. When had he fallen asleep?

He was dreaming about that night again. He always had that dream. If he was dreaming at all, it was about that night. About the loud bang that tore the lust driven cloudiness from his eyes and had his cock deflating in the tight tactical pants.

He looked around. It was morning already. He was alone. Renee had to go to Smackdown like she usually did. So he was alone. No wife.

No Seth. That was his fault.

No Roman. That was the fault of their sins. 

God wanted them to pay for that horrible night.

Dean needed to talk to someone. But since he had almost broken their pact weeks ago when he said that the Shield had done horrible things - that they were paying for their sins, that Roman's injury was him answering to God - Roman hadn't answered any of his calls. 

And Seth would never want to speak to him again, Dean was sure.

And Dean didn't want them to speak to him. They made him weak. They made him like this. 

Where was he again?

The hotel. Tuesday morning.

Alone.

He missed being with his friends. Why wouldn't Roman answer his calls?

After a few blank minutes of confusion, Dean remembered again. Right. He drove them away. 

Because he was so angry all the time.

Because his sins were haunting him.

Because he should have died earlier that year when he got a bad infection after surgery. Dean should have died. 

Because only in death would he forget that night. And maybe even then, when his soul was neck deep in the burning fires of Hell, he would live perpetually in that night. 

Dean grabbed his phone, ignoring the thought to text his wife good morning. Instead, he scrolled his contacts. 

Roman. Please answer.

No answer.

Roman was such a good person. An angel. How did such a nice guy get wrapped up with the likes of him, he wondered. 

“Ro,” he croaked to the voicemail. “Fuck. I need help man. I don't know who else to talk to. I keep... I can't think straight. I keep forgetting things. …Except. Except that. Please call me back. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault.”

**The bang had Dean on his feet and ready to fight.**

**Roman was already running down the staircases that led to the basement. What was he doing?**

**But Dean could hear two sets of steps.**

**Fuck. Damn it. No.**

**“Shit! Someone caught us,” Seth hissed.**

**They ran after Roman, chasing who ever had found them. This was bad. They were paid mercenaries. How could they let themselves get caught? Especially like that?**

**No one was supposed to know where they were. They were supposed to be hidden. They were only there to execute justice.**

**They were the hounds of Justice, but now, they were chasing down someone who could ruin them. Ruin their careers. Their lives. Their hard work.**

**Dean's jaw clenched as he caught up with Roman in no time, Seth on his other side.**

**They saw a flash of long hair swing around the corner. But it was a dead end and the Shield easily cornered her, trapping her in the dark basement corner. No escape.**

**She looked scared but defiant.**

**She wasn't a member of WWE. That, he could tell. And she wasn't an arena worker. No uniform. A little young too. An adult, but not older than them. Early 20s. And wearing a CM Punk t-shirt.**

**A fan.**

**Just great.**

**Seth moved first. He grabbed onto her arm, tightly. Hard enough to bruise. His eyes swam with anger and fear. “What did you see?”**

**“Enough.”**

After that night, after whispered promises, they never spoke about it again. 

But Dean had hinted to it. He put them in danger. 

He had almost announced to the world that they had committed the most evil crime in the basement of an arena, just like the one he had stood in when he taunted Seth those weeks ago.

Why had Dean done that?

He couldn't remember.

He was just very angry. It was an anger that ripped at his heart. 

He wasn't as angry anymore. 

Now he was just… Confused. 

Dean looked around. He was in the car. Where was he driving?

He remembered that Seth had called him. Seth had called him Tuesday night. It was Wednesday. 

Seth had called him and said Roman had texted him about a frenzied phone call Dean had left the big man. 

Seth told him to meet him at a ratty hotel room a state over.

That was where he was going 

His sins were eating him up inside. He wondered if they ate at Seth too. At Roman.

No, not Roman.

It wasn't his fault. 

Roman shouldn't have to suffer. Seth either. It was Dean's fault. He had antagonized Seth that night. He had told Seth to order him around. If Dean had never had his tongue on the seam of Seth's pants that night, they wouldn't have gotten caught.

They would have never had to do what they did.

**“What the fuck does that mean?” Dean barked at the smirking fan before him.**

**“Means I saw you guys in your little pre-justice ritual,” she said. Dean didn't like her tone. He didn't like the judgement in her eyes.**

**Who the hell was she to judge them? To judge him? They were the hounds of justice. She was just some nosey bitch.**

**“You're gonna keep your mouth shut,” Dean hissed at her, getting in her face.**

**“I'm going to tell the entire world that I caught you about to suck his dick.”**

**“What would you get out of this?” Roman rumbled, grey eyes locked in on her.**

**She smirked up at them each in turn. She was smaller than them. Tiny really. But her evil little smile rubbed Dean the wrong way.**

**“I get to ruin your life.”**

**Dean shoved her back harshly. She collided with the wall, except for the arm Seth still gripped.**

**“Oh? So you're a little bitchy faggot and a woman beater?”**

**“Fuck you!” Dean yelled.**

**“You sure are a little cunt aren't you?” Seth scoffed. He pressed her against the wall.**

**“And I'm going to ruin your career.”**

“What the fuck are you up to?” Seth seethed at him the second Dean walked through the motel room door. “Are you trying to get us put on trial? Get our lives ruined?”

Dean stared at him blankly for a second. 

Seth. Seeing Seth eased Dean's foggy mind, but something felt off. Like he wasn't supposed to feel good beside Seth again. Plus, Seth was mad at him. 

“Did McIntyre kick you  _ that _ hard? You're acting like a fucking moron. Or was it at the Rumble? Did that guy from NXT, Aleister- did he kick you so hard that you start acting like we're friends again? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you losing your damn mind?”

Dean's hand went to his collarbone. He tapped it in thought. 

“I think I am.”

“What?” Seth gave him a dumbfounded look. 

Dean sat down. Thankfully, his mind was clear again. Seth's anger reminded him of everything he'd done the last few months. Being in a crappy motel room with Seth reminded Dean of the years they had slept in rooms like this with Roman. He remembered everything he'd done.

He remembered his anger and resentment. He remembered almost dying. He remembered wishing it had taken him. Sweet angel of Death. 

Dean slowly shuffled to the bed and sat down like he weighed a ton. “I'm having a hard time remembering things. Not always. Like right now I'm fine. But sometimes I… I can't figure out what's going on.”

Seth tensed his jaw in thought. Those soft brown doe shaped eyes scanned over Dean. “You probably had a bad concussion and never got it treated.”

Dean shook his head. “I think my head is fine. But I keep seeing her. I saw her when I almost died.”

“Don't,” Seth whispered. “Don't say anything. We promised.”

**She laughed. “I hate you guys. You don't deserve to be here in the WWE. I don't know who paid you to serve out your bullshit justice, but I'm going to make sure you never get to do it again. I'm so happy I decided to snoop.”**

**Dean gulped. Not his career. He needed to be here. He needed to not be on the streets again. He couldn't live that life again. He'd do whatever he could to not go back to that.**

**He looked at Seth beside him, then to Roman behind them. They looked like they were thinking the same. They couldn't let this little bitch ruin their lives. And Dean would do anything for them. To keep them happy. He was sure he loved them if he believed in love.**

**Dean felt the anger boil in him. He turned to the girl Seth had pinned to the wall, eyes cool and unflinching.**

**He reached out and wrapped both hands around her thin throat, tightening slowly.**

**She choked on her own laughter, disbelieving, challenging him almost. But she looked scared that he could hurt her. “Keep going. I'll tell the cops you did this too.”**

**“That's if you survive.”**

**Her eyes went wide. Her face was going red as he put a little more pressure. She tried to scream, the beginning of a hoarse sound escaping. Seth slapped his hand over her mouth, blocking the sound as she started to struggle. Roman watched them, checking behind him nervously. But he said nothing.**

**None of them said anything.**

**Seth and Roman watched as Dean let this girl's life slip through his fingers.**

“She came to get me, when I was dying from the infection. She was finally going to take me down for what we did.”

Dean looked up at Seth. His blue eyes were big and bright under the white ceiling lamp, yet dark with fear. Fear that he was really losing his mind, losing his memory. Everything felt like it was slipping away from him except for the memory of that day. 

Fear that he would be caught for his sins, years after he had commit them.

Seth had the same fear dancing in his eyes. He pressed his lips together in silent thought. Then his hand shot out and wrapped around Dean's neck. 

“You're not going to ever talk about this ever. To l anyone,” Seth ordered. “We swore to never talk about it. To never fucking mention it again. So you're going to keep your mouth  _ shut _ .”

Dean felt tears in his eyes. Seth was telling him what to do. That helped his mind a little. 

He glanced around, frowning. He couldn't move his head much with Seth choking him.

Where was Roman?

Dean looked back at Seth when the other man spoke again. 

“If you tell anyone, I will make sure Roman and I throw you under the bus. We'll tell the cops that we had nothing to do with it. That we have no idea what your crazy ass says. I will not have you ruin my life. You understand me?”

More tears. “Yeah. I promise. I'm sorry.”

**Fuck. Fuck. What did he do?**

**She wasn't breathing.**

**Dean - he killed her.**

**“We have to move her. We have to hide her.”**

**Who said that?**

**Seth. Seth was speaking.**

**“There aren't any cameras down here that I can see. But we need to cover her up.”**

**Roman. That was Roman.**

**“Ambrose!” Seth yelled at him. “Snap out of it. We need to move. Let's go.”**

**Like he was on autopilot, Dean helped the other two men move the - the body through the back door. Roman was mostly carrying her. Dean helped block any sight of her with his height. Seth moved on ahead, finding an exit in the back of the basement. They checked outside. No one was around.**

**The show was still going on and the main entrances were on the other side of the arena.**

**Quickly, fumbling around, the three men took the girl - the body - and put her in the rental car trunk.**

**Before they shut the trunk, Roman grimaced. He reached in and slipped his hand over her still open eyes to close them.**

Dean looked around. Seth was gone. When had Seth left?

He curled up on the motel bed and closed his eyes. 

He should have died.

He killed someone. He was a murderer. And his actions tarnished Roman. They haunted Seth. 

His actions those years ago were why they were all suffering. Dean was going crazy. Well, more than usual. 

He was slowly losing it.

And it was what he deserved. 

Where did Seth go?

He was alone, and it was all his own fault. Anger swelled in him again. He needed Seth and Roman, and they weren't there.

And it was all his fault.

Dean wished he had died.

When he opened his eyes to the dark motel room he saw a familiar face smirking at him. His hand prints glared back at him, dark bruises around her neck, just above that CM Punk shirt.

**They drove for as long as they could, until they found a dark patch of messy woods. Along the way, Seth had found a hardware store and bought some shovels. At a convenience store, he bought bleach with some other stuff so they wouldn't look suspicious.**

**In his foggy mind, Dean could still hear Roman asking in a quiet voice. “Are we really doing this?”**

**“If we get caught, we'll lose everything. And I refuse to let a little shit ruin my life, Reigns,” Seth said, driving down the deserted long road.**

**The woods were damp. It must have rained recently. The dirt was hard to to pick up, heavy with moisture, between some trees. They shoveled for a long time.**

**Shoveled until their arms burned and their minds were too tired to understand what they had done. What they were doing still.**

**Roman placed her in the deep hole. Grave.**

**Then Seth poured some bleach on her, hoping to mask any trace of them.**

**They didn't think about who they had killed. Who Dean had killed. Didn't entertain the idea that she was someone's daughter, someone's friend. They ignored it all as they put the dirt back into the hole and patted it down as best they could.**

**Seth, always the best thinker of them all, moved some dead branches over the area so it didn't stand out this deep in a nameless wood.**

**The deed was done, but Roman knelt down and crossed himself, silently giving a prayer. Dean assumed he was praying for the girl they killed and for their souls.**

**Dean looked at Roman. He hadn't done anything, and he would live with this forever. Roman was Dean's saving grace. Both men were, really. Both men would share his sins.**

**They dragged themselves back into the car. Seth drove them for a few hours.**

**It was raining, now. The water tapped against the window heavily.**

**They stopped near a run down gas station of a ghost town and Seth left the shovels in the back, pouring the rest of the bleach on them to erase the traces of their sin.**

**Seth slid back into the car and started driving again. The sun was starting to rise. They would have to find somewhere to stay soon. Somewhere secluded, where no one would ask questions as to why they were covered in dirt and pale with fear.**

**“This night...” Roman started. He licked his lips. “We have to promise we never bring this up again. We can't tell anyone. We'll all go down.”**

**“All?” Seth scoffed. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You could rat us out at any time.”**

**“Seth. Please,” Dean croaked from the back seat.**

**“Dean. You killed someone and I helped. He didn't do anything.”**

**“But he didn't stop us either,” Dean whispered. He looked at Roman's profile. He could trust Roman and Seth. “We all have something to lose here.”**

**Roman gulped. “We have to promise. This can never get out. We can never speak of this again.”**

**Seth stopped at a red light and looked over at them both. “Never again.”**

**“On my life,” Dean whispered. He was crying.**

Seth put his head on the steering wheel. 

He felt a heavy doom settle over him. Dean was losing his mind, and it couldn't be at a worse time. Seth was finally in the title picture again. Life was finally looking up. 

Seth had worked so hard to find the redemption he needed for their crimes. And now Dean was losing it. 

He called Roman as a lump burned in his throat. 

“You know what we need to do if Dean messes up,” he said, low and gravelly. “He takes the blame for everything.”

Seth worried his lip as Roman responded curtly. He still had nightmares about that night. He still felt that girl's last breath against his hand.

And no matter how hard he prayed to a God he didn't believe in, this was his reality. He was going to live with that girl's purple face and wide eyes watching him in his sleep until he died too.

**None of them slept that night.**

**Or the next few nights**

**Any time they heard a car pull up near them or police sirens, they would all tense up.**

**No one reported a found body. No one came looking for them.**

**Only their nightmares came for them. Only their dark souls.**

**They never talked about it again. Not a word. They would never tell a soul that they had taken the life of that girl to save their career.**

**They ruined their sanity for the sake of their livelihood.**

**But in the end, they were damned.**

Roman hung up the phone. He was standing in his backyard, watching the wind rustle the trees behind his property.

Dean's phone call had set him edge. 

And Seth’s phone call didn't make it any better.

The neck injury Roman suffered in October was worse than he wanted to admit. He couldn't feel one of his hands sometimes. It would be the injury that would make sure he never wrestled again. 

He knew it was punishment for what had happened years ago. It was God's judgement on his soul. It was why Seth never slept. It was why Dean was losing his mind. And it was why he couldn't feel his hand right now.

The same hand that had closed the girl's empty eyes. 

To the world though, Roman was the good guy. He had never done wrong. He was an angel who didn't deserve this life altering injury. 

But that night, he had done something wrong.

He had buried a young woman after watching the life fade from her eyes. Those eyes went from vengeful to dull and lifeless, looking directly at him. They begged him to help her. But he hadn't. He was too scared to help. 

It made Roman sick.

He kept that night locked away because it wasn't just him he was protecting. He was protecting Seth and Dean. He was protecting his family. His legacy.

Roman did nothing wrong.

He was a good man. A man of honor and pride. A man who did something terrible. A man with a secret he could no longer stomach. 

Only two other people would ever know of their shared mortal sin. It was a sworn secret that would keep all three men coming back to each other in time. No matter how many times they split up, they were always drawn back..

Because they would always be tied together with the strong string of fate. They were men who committed the ultimate crime, and had never really paid for their sins.

But Roman had a secret no one else knew but him. Not even his partners in crime. 

His secret was much, much worse.

Somehow worse than actually committing murder.

Roman? 

His real sin was that he enjoyed it.

He liked watching the life escape that girl's body. He liked watching Dean choke her as Seth made sure she couldn't scream. 

It made him sick. Nothing to him but a sick thrill. But Roman would never admit it.

If Dean did lose his mind, though, well… Roman knew what to do. 

Just like the others beyond the trees of his backyard.

  
  
  
  



End file.
